


A Light That Never Goes Out

by Manu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: M/M, Post-Cursed Child, Pre-Slash, inktober prompts, most cliched title ever, personal fictober, unbrit-pick'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manu/pseuds/Manu
Summary: Late night practice in the Room of Requirement.





	A Light That Never Goes Out

**Author's Note:**

> Personal "Fictober" challenge of taking [Inktober's prompts](https://twitter.com/inktober/status/1035886145173745664) and writing something short for each and posting them daily. Ships, fandoms and everything else will vary. Patently unbeta'd.
> 
>  
> 
> Day 4: spell

“Expecto Patronum!”

The voice echoed all through the gloomy and cavernous room, along with the sound of someone else unwrapping sweets. The room had provided Albus and Scorpius with ample space to practice and relax, respectively. Albus tried the incantation once more producing a wisp of light, which judging by his expression, simply wasn’t going to do. Scorpius pulled another sweet from the bag that the room had also supplied.

“Where do you think it’s getting all these from?” Scorpius asked, inspecting a sugar skull. “I do hope we’re not stealing from Honeydukes,” he added, finishing it in a couple of bites.

“I think I saw a pair of hooves,” Albus commented, looking at the tip of his wand.

“I sure love it when we converse in non-sequiturs,” Scorpius said.

“Sorry,” Albus said, “I just really need to get this, okay?”

Scorpius sighed and put down the bag. He got up from his comfortable armchair while shooting a quick, dark look at the small, old chest in the middle of the room, and finally, turned to address his friend.

“Remind me again: Why?”

“Why what?” Albus looked confused.

“I mean… We just had a fantastic Halloween feast. Then you spent three whole hours with the rest of the prefects combating the infestation of boggarts that some knob head brought into the castle as a prank. So, why are we not in bed? Why are you practicing? Why now? I’m sure not even half of the seventh years know how to produce a patronus...”

“The O.W.L.s…”

“Do not include it. And neither do the N.E.W.T.s, strictly speaking. Hence the seventh years not knowing it.”

“Dad says you can still do it at the exam... You know, to score extra points? Which I’m really going to need if I keep being rubbish at Defence…”

“Then practice that! Regular, easier stuff! At normal hours! Get Rose to help!”

Albus’ mouth curved unpleasantly.

“You know I hate it when she helps. It’s like having the worst of aunt Hermione and uncle Ron,” Albus said.

“Not the answer to my question,” Scorpius huffed and angrily took another sweet from the bag. “Agh!! Cockroach cluster!”

He spit it out in the newly-conjured rubbish bin. He eyed the bag deeply offended.

“Dad says he managed to produce a corporeal patronus on his third year,” Albus said gloomily.

Scorpius stopped playing up his disgust and turned his attention to Albus.

“Potter,” Scorpius said, snapping Albus out of his gloom for a second. “Come on. Your dad also defeated a dark lord at seventeen. He’s not a normal wizard. He just isn’t. Also, wasn’t he being attacked by a hundred dementors and he _had to_ conjure it? And not until there was a crazy time loop involved? I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to…”

“And all his friends managed by their fifth year,” Albus insisted. “And he was the one who taught them, under the Ministry’s nose.”

Scorpius shook his head.

“Can James do it?” he asked with sudden inspiration.

“What?”

“Can your brother produce a corporeal patronus?”

“I… I don’t think he can even do a non-corporeal one,” Albus said, slowly. “He tried just a couple of times. I guess it didn’t come easy for him those times so he gave it up.”

“Well, there you have it.”

Albus stared at him, considering.

“You try it,” he said at last.

“I-what?” Scorpius almost dropped the bag. “Try…? Oh. Oh, no. Nope. No, sir.”

“What?” Why not?” Albus looked almost offended. “You know we are better when we practice together.”

“I don’t want to be eaten by maggots!”

“You don’t what?” Albus laughed.

“Miranda Goshawk’s Book of Spells. Chapter 5,” Scorpius said. “The Dark Wizard Raczidian attempted the patronus charm and, instead of a spirit guardian, a horde of maggots came out of his wand and devoured him!”

“Is that a real thing?” Albus asked, half-alarmed half-amused.

“Yes! You need a pure heart to cast a patronus,” Scorpius said with passion.

Albus stared at him.

“Then try it,” he said softly a second later.

“What?”

“Scorpius,” Albus said in a low voice. He approached his friend and put a hand on his chest. “What do I keep telling you?  You are the most wonderful, pure-hearted, non-maggot-snack-y person I know.”

Scorpius made a little strangled noise.

“Damn you, Potter,” he said with fake venom. “If I get eaten it’s going to be you fault. So better be prepared to get sued into oblivion because my father will hear about it.”

“Close your eyes,” Albus ordered, with a smile. “And focus on my voice.”

Scorpius obeyed. He took out his wand.

“Now, relax… Breath in... Breath out…”

Scorpius did so.

“I want you to think of a good, happy memory,” Albus said. “The first one that pops into your head. Don’t overthink it.”

A small smile curved Scorpius’ lips. He looked asleep, as if he was having the best of dreams. Albus stared at him for a second, fascinated.

“Lift your arm,” Albus remembered to say with half a voice. Scorpius did so. “And feel the memory fill you up. Feel it wanting to burst out of you. Make the whole world your memory.”

The air shifted. Everything went lighter. Albus got a slight case of goose bumps.

“Now say the incantation.”

Scorpius inhaled deeply.

“Expecto Patronum!”

A blinding light exploded out of Scorpius’ wand. He must have felt it somehow, because he opened his eyes in surprise but had to close them almost immediately.

“Focus!” Albus shouted. The light seemed to drown sound as well as any darkness.

Scorpius turned to look at him, stunned. Albus grinned wildly. Scorpius nodded and faced back front. The most determined look Albus had ever seen him wear was illuminated by the steady stream of silvery light coming out of his wand. Albus couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.

“Keep it firm!” Albus said, and after a moment’s deliberation, he pointed his wand at the chest in the middle of the room.

Scorpius caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and all the determination melted away once he realized what was happening. Panic threatened to seize him. He opened his mouth to stop Albus but it was too late.

The chest had opened and a large, dark shadow was already emerging.

“Keep going!” Albus said, trying to appear and sound as encouraging as he could. This was hard, since a cold, empty feeling was now growing inside his chest. He felt rooted to the floor, unable to move. “You can do it!” he managed.

The dementor-boggart glided towards Scorpius. It stopped dead when it got too close to the patronus’ light. Scorpius’ arm buckled a little. The creature tilted its head to one side, studying him. Then the light disappeared. The dark-robed figure continued its path towards Scorpius, who took a step back, wide-eyed. It was this image of fear what unfroze Albus.

“Riddikulus!” he shouted, pointing his wand wildly at the threat.

The boggart spun on its axis, a jumble of cloth and smoke, and fell to the floor. Albus levitated the still shifting mass, not giving it any time to lock into any shape. He threw it into the chest, locking it. He ran towards Scorpius.

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” he asked, putting his hand on Scorpius’ shoulder. He was sitting on the floor, a bit disheveled. “I’m so sorry. I got excited. I…”

“It’s fine,” Scorpius said, a bit shaken yet smiling bravely. He put his hand on his own shoulder, covering Albus’. Eyes closed, he composed himself.

“You were great,” Albus tried. He crouched down. “Really great.”

Scorpius nodded, pensive.

“I was, wasn’t I?”

“Totally.”

“I wish I could say your shocked face was a bit offensive but I was a bit too busy being shocked myself.”

Albus laughed.

“That was one strong memory you started with,” Albus commented, taking the discarded bag of sweets and pulling out a chocolate frog. He offered it to his friend. “What was it?”

Scorpius took a small bite. His eyes closed, he savoured the chocolate. Then his smile widened beyond simply delighting in the flavour. Albus’ remaining tension began to melt away. He loved seeing Scorpius happy. It was the best damn sight in the entire world.

“The train… before first year,” Scorpius answered. “When we first met.”

Albus remained quiet.

“I was so nervous,” his friend elaborated. “And I was so alone and so… sad. And then you showed up and suddenly the world and the road ahead weren’t so scary anymore. There was this cool bloke willing to be my friend!” He blushed.

“I wasn’t cool,” Albus said. “I’m not. My dad’s…”

“I saw you on the platform saying goodbye to your family,” Scorpius continued. “I zeroed in on you even before I had noticed who your family was. You looked so serious, so determined…”

The anxiety was killing me, Albus wanted to say. Scorpius seemed lost in the memory. Happy, but exhausted.

“Right,” Albus filled the silence. “I think we should get going, You’re right, it’s late and we’re tired.”

“No,” Scorpius said, standing up. “I want to try again.”

Albus’ “what” died on his lips when Scorpius began rolling up his sleeves and some of that previous determination came back. The chest trembled in anticipation. Scorpius threw an inscrutable look at it. Albus felt himself blushing.

“All right, then,” he relented. His wand pointed at the creature’s prison. “Get ready.”

Scorpius exhaled and closed his eyes once more. A mask of deep concentration fell on his face. His body language signalled calm. He opened his eyes. To Albus, he had never looked more mature and confident. His blush intensified.

“Ready,” Scorpius announced, his voice deeper than Albus had ever heard it be.

Albus spelled the chest open. Again, the boggart had already transformed before coming out, so a dementor now floated midway to the ceiling, towering over them and regarding them with pure menace.

It launched itself at Scorpius.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Again, an intense amorphous patronus inundated the room with its ethereal light. Albus was a few steps to the side, his wand at the ready, thinking of funny things it could turn the boggart into. Which was hard with the cold feeling creeping into his being. He felt thankful for Scorpius’ patronus, figuring that the sensation of empty sadness would be a lot stronger without it.

In a way, Albus realized, this was just another instance of the way his life had been ever since he met Scorpius. He would’ve gone mad years ago, off the deep end, if he hadn’t had Scorpius’ light always next to him now. That thought alone was enough to fight the desolation invading his heart. He looked at Scorpius again, struggling to keep the dark creature at bay.

Going almost by pure instinct. Albus took a couple of steps closer to his friend, also pointing up at the boggart.

Pure instinct took over at last.

He kissed Scorpius.

Scorpius went wide-eyed.

“Expecto Patronum!” Albus cried out, riding a wave of adrenaline and oxytocin. He managed his most intense stream of light yet.

Scorpius was still dazed and his light had diminished some. But then, he smiled and shouted the incantation again. Albus’s hair stood on end. The light from Scorpius’ wand was as bright as before, except that now instead of being a huge, diffuse thing, it began to coalesce into a single spot mid-air.

Albus cheered, making his light brighter and his heart beat faster. Scorpius’ patronus finally took form.

A small yet blindingly bright creature ran around the room, unbound by gravity. It then attacked the boggart who retreated with a pathetic screech back into the box.

Albus lowered his wand. They both watched the small, animated patronus. It floated down to run around Scorpius playfully. He looked delighted. Albus took his hand. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“It’s a ferret,” Scorpius said, extending his other hand to pet it. He grinned. “Wait until my father hears about this.”


End file.
